


Hammers and Strings

by Malzysaur



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:47:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malzysaur/pseuds/Malzysaur
Summary: Michael and Alex both move back to Roswell around the same time. They have never met before and both men are on very different paths in their lives.Alex came home to connect with his brothers and leave his tumultuous past behind. He struggles the most at night, so to keep the demons at bay he picks up a part time job at the post office. He works overnights sorting mail and discovers letters from a little girl.Michael moved in with his sister after graduating from college with a double major and a PhD in Engineering. He's a single father to a lively seven year old girl. He works odd jobs to save up for the life he wants to give his daughter. He has no idea that his daughter has started to send letters looking for someone to give Michael his happily ever after.No matter where their lives have taken them, fate is determined to make sure Michael and Alex end up together, but sometimes she has a little fun along the way.
Relationships: Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Isabel Evans/Gregory Manes, Max Evans/Liz Ortecho, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, past Michael Guerin/original female character
Comments: 42
Kudos: 49





	1. Fairy Godmothers

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no words. Basically born from a craving for fluff and a kid fic. I also have no self control and just love having multiple WIPs. Also, this is not beta'd so any and all mistakes are my own! 
> 
> Eventually the rating will go up and I will add more tags as we go and they become relevant! If there is a tag you notice I should add please let me know!

Gravel crunched under desert worn boots as Alex shifted his weight. He glanced down at the glinting silver in the palm of his hand, wondering at the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. The sun burned bright from its lofty seat in the sky, but it almost felt like he was being mocked. He squinted up at it, a frown weighed down the corners of his lips before he sighed and pushed forward. He was home, maybe ten years too late and missing different parts of himself, but he’d done it, come full circle. The couple of seconds of retrospection he’d been granted were broken by the sound of someone coming up the driveway behind him, their steps weighed down. Alex turned; his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Gregory barely balance two of his boxes. Glass rattled threateningly inside.

“So, when I said I would help you move into your new place, I assumed you’d be part of that help,” the other man snarked as he passed Alex to set the boxes down on the front steps of the home. His smile was bright as he turned to regard his youngest brother. 

Alex inhaled a deep breath, “Sorry it just…it hit me that I’m back. I just never thought I _would_ be back here again,” he admitted as he came to stand next to Greg. 

There was a fondness to Greg’s expression as he looked over at Alex next to him, but the small hint of boyish mischief made Alex glare at him. Before he could say anything, Greg had pounced. He wrapped an arm around Alex’s neck and pulled him down against his waist to hold him still as he messily ruffled his free hand through Alex’s hair. Alex sputtered and pushed against Greg before he finally started to laugh himself. There was no dignified way to ease away from his brother, so Alex smoothed down his hair the best he could before shooting Greg a playful glare. 

“Ass,” he muttered with a grin as he stepped past Greg to unlock the door to his new house. 

“Yeah, but you love me anyways baby bro,” he teased as he scooped up a box from the step to follow Alex in. 

Alex stepped back around Greg to grab the other box that was left on the step. He looked up as he entered again, taking in his home. The place where he’d decided to settle. It was bereft of character, and honestly, he didn’t trust he had enough of himself leftover to give the place the warmth it deserved. He groaned internally at how emo he sounded even to himself. He pocketed the keys from the door and joined Greg in the middle of the living room. 

“I like it, it suits you, in a way,” Greg commented, one large palm coming down against Alex’s back before he turned back to head out to the truck for a couple more boxes. 

Alex remained where he was and looked around. He felt the weight of everything start to melt away as it hit him. He was done with the Air Force. It had taken enough blood, sweat, and tears from him, but he was finally able to leave it all behind. 

“Here’s to new beginnings,” he murmured as he cast one more look over everything before finally pulling himself away to join Greg outside and assess the number of boxes left to be brought in. He had various deliveries set up over the next couple of weeks for the rest of his furniture, so in the meantime, he’d camped out in Greg’s guest room. Not many people knew he was back in town and he preferred to keep it that way. He needed time to fix his armor before he was bombarded with questions, well wishes, and awkward, stilted conversations from the people he grew up with. Gregory’s place offered the perfect coverage out on the reservation where he could keep hiding for the rest of the week. 

“Any idea what you’re going to do now that you’re a free man?” Greg asked as he pulled a box from the back of Alex’s SUV. 

“Might do some freelance cybersecurity, but for now I just want to learn how to breathe again, you know?” he asked as he pulled the last box from the back of the vehicle out. 

Greg huffed as he walked back into the house to set his box with all the other, “I get it, at least dad’s not around anymore, that should give you more room to breathe,” he added with a soft smile, the edges of it quivered though with all of the apologies he seemed to want to spill for not being enough when they were kids. 

Alex didn’t quite meet his oldest brother’s gaze as he dropped his last box, “Yeah, I have a couple years at least before I have to worry about him possibly being transferred back. How’s Flint? I haven’t heard from him in a few months,” he asked to get off the topic of their monster of a father. 

Greg shrugged a shoulder as he looked around the house again before he headed towards the door, “He’s good as far as I know. He’s planning to come out and visit as soon as he can since he heard you’re back. Clay said the same too, but he needs to get some time off work before he can head back home. Soon enough you’ll be sick of us, don’t rush it,” he assured as he waited for Alex to lock back up again before they headed back towards the reservation. 

Alex huffed out what was supposed to be a laugh, but ended up sounding more like a world-weary sigh as he climbed into the driver’s seat, “Thanks again for all your help today and…I don’t just mean today. You know you don’t have any sort of debt to repay to me, right? There are no amends to make, we all survived dad the best we could. I don’t blame you for getting out as soon as you could,” Alex adds into the silence before he starts the SUV. 

A complicated look flashes through Greg’s eyes as he nods. He swallows thickly and turns to glance out the window, “I-I know, but I’m here now and I want to be part of your life Alex, I want all the things dad stole from us and I want us to be a family. Flint and Clay are coming around too ever since dad was reassigned, they’ve started to step out of his shadow. I’m just really happy you decided to come back home,” he breathed, his smile going soft as he quickly looked over at Alex.

Before things could get too heavy, Alex nodded as a wry twist pulled at the corners of his lips, “Yeah, well, we’ll see how happy you are if I keep having you come help with things around the house,” he teased as he pulled out onto the road. 

Greg laughed next to him, “Welcome home baby brother, welcome home,” he sighed happily as he contented himself to watch the scenery blur by through the passenger’s side window.

\---

“Daddy! Daddy!” a small curly-haired child shrieked as she came barreling into the house, her once pristine tennis shoes steaked with mud, the pink and blue lights on the soles muted by the wear and tear.

Michael looked up from the chaotic mess he’d turned his sister’s coffee table into as he looked through job ads and various research articles. He grinned as his daughter skidded around the corner and practically flew into his lap, knocking the wind from him as he quickly wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling. 

“Oof, what are you yelling about baby girl?” he asked as he narrowly avoided a sharp knee to his groin while Lyra wiggled free and onto the couch next to him. 

“We learned about something super cool today!” she rushed to tell him as she pulled her backpack into her lap and started to dig around in it. 

Michael smiled softly as he watched her. Her curls were lighter than his own, bleached by her time out in the sun and rendered just as unruly. He’d managed to tame them in the morning before school and made a mental note to ask her where her barrettes had gotten to. The last seven years had been a chaotic roller-coaster for Michael Guerin. He never would have imagined he’d have a daughter at nearly thirty years old. She hadn’t been part of his plan after he’d left Santa Fe to attend UNM on an academic scholarship a little over ten years ago. It was his Sophomore year when he’d met Lyra’s mom, it was meant to be a one-night stand borne from too much alcohol and lost inhibitions. He never expected the girl to find him six months later and share with him the life altering news. He had always wanted a family, but he never imagined he’d have one so soon. He was determined to make it work, so they moved in and started to date. For a year and a half life was hard, but blissful. He’d fallen in love with Lyra at first sight, but following her birth things started to change with the mother. She withdrew and didn’t seem to care for the baby. Eventually, when Lyra was nearing three years old Michael woke up to find Savannah was gone. There was almost no trace of her other than a hastily scribbled _‘sorry’_ on the back of a grocery receipt. 

Once the initial shock wore off, Michael had to double down and work even harder to make sure he kept his grades up and worked as much as possible to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. Some days he doubted his worth and thought that Lyra would be better off with someone who could fully support her, but then he thought about the hellscape of foster care when he was growing up and refused to allow his daughter to succumb to that. Eventually he had to face it and accept his sister’s help, especially in his last couple years of school when he was working on a double major and a PhD. There are days he still doesn’t know how they ever made it. After graduation, a few months ago, he moved to Roswell to live with Isobel so he could work to save up enough money to find a permanent place for them to call home.

Michael was jolted back to the present when a very solid book was shoved into his chest. He caught the object and flipped it over to read the title, “Fairy tales? We’ve been reading these for ages Lyr,” he stated, a confused twist to his lips as he thumbed through the colorful pages. 

Lyra’s face contorted into a hard glare with all the force her little seven-year-old body could muster, “I know daddy, but we never read Cin...Cind…Cinderelley before. She had fairy godmothers! My teacher said that fairy godmothers grant your wishes, they’re the ones that collect them when you make them on your birthdays and they keep them safe,” she went on to explain, her large hazel eyes blinking up at Michael. 

He had just opened his mouth to refute the things her teacher had told her when Isobel stepped into the room. Their gazes met and Isobel nearly flayed Michael alive with her glare as she slowly shook her head. Michael swallowed thickly and returned his attention to his daughter. His smile softened as he pretended to absorb what she was telling him.

“Oh yeah? Here I thought you had to make all your wishes on the first star you see at night,” he teased as he moved to set the book of fairy tales on the coffee table. Isobel eyed the mess warily before she moved into the kitchen. 

“Daddy,” she groaned, drawing the word out in pure annoyance at the idiocy of her father. 

Michael chuckled as he started to gather all the bits and baubles on the coffee table so he could start dinner for them, “Well, now that you know about all the fairy godmothers out there, have you come up with some good wishes for them? Maybe ask yours for a new telescope or something?” he asked, his brow cocked as he looked over his shoulder to where Lyra sat kicking her feet against the couch. 

Lyra studied her dad carefully for a second before she scrambled off the couch, “I can’t tell you daddy!” she admonished as she shoved the book back into her bag. 

Michael raised his arms in innocence, “Alright, alright, well how about you write them down so you don’t forget them, huh? That way you know what all your wishes are,” he advised as he leaned over to plant a kiss on the top of her head before he rocked up onto his feet. 

Lyra frowned after him, her hand massaging her head where he’d kissed her, “Ugh, dad,” she groaned again as she slid off the couch to tromp down the hall towards her room. 

Michael grinned as he watched her leave. He stacked the different things he’d been looking over on the coffee table before leaving the room to find Isobel in the kitchen looking through the mail, she’d picked up on her way in. “I can’t believe you almost told her that fairy godmothers didn’t exist,” Isobel intoned as she looked up over the mail in her hands to level Michael with a piercing look.

“I just didn’t want her to think the universe was out to get her when her wishes didn’t come true,” he defended as he rolled the sleeves of his flannel up to wash his hands. 

Isobel made a considering noise before dropped her mail on the counter, “When you were a kid you believed in things to make the pain of growing up easier, didn’t you?” she asked him, her tone going soft as she moved towards the fridge to set out meat and vegetables for tacos. 

Michael snorted, “I hate to break it to you Iz, but after I left that orphanage and got tossed around foster homes, nothing could ease the pain of that.”

The silence settled for far too long so Michael turned to find Isobel frowning, her gaze, usually sharp, soft as she regarded her brother, “I’m so sorry Michael,” she murmured. 

Michael flashed a quick grin, “It’s not your fault Iz, we were seven. I was happy you and Max got such a great family, sometimes that made things easier to bear, knowing you guys were safe and happy,” he admitted with a small shrug as he busied himself setting out spices. 

Isobel made a pained noise before she announced she was going to change into something more comfortable. Michael let her leave, knowing she needed a few minutes to pull herself together again. He didn’t like talking about the past a lot, it did nothing but weigh everyone down. There was no way to change the past. He wanted to focus on the future, make sure he gave Lyra the life he never had, to always make sure she had a reason to smile.

\---

An hour after supper Michael had kissed both Lyra and Isobel goodnight as he left for a shift at The Wild Pony, a job Isobel had talked Maria DeLuca into giving him, in which she’d shamelessly used her niece as leverage. Shadows flickered at the edges of the soft lightening in the house while Isobel watched Lyra get herself ready for bed. All night the little girl seemed to be troubled by something, but neither Michael or Isobel could get her to voice just what it was. Eventually Lyra had excused herself to her room where she remained until just before bed when Isobel had knocked and reminded her to start getting ready.

Lyra remained in a contemplative mood as she went through the motions of getting ready for bed. Isobel sensed that the little girl wanted to say something, but didn’t quite know how to put it into words. Isobel gave her space to figure it out when she left the bathroom to pour herself a glass of wine. She had just capped the bottle when she sensed Lyra behind her. Isobel turned towards her, giving her her full attention. Lyra frowned. She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes darting all over the kitchen before she seemed to just accept her fate. Her shoulders sagged while she looked up at her aunt. 

“Auntie Izzy,” she started, her tone almost defeated, which Isobel had to force herself to keep a straight face with it. 

“What is it sweetie?” she asked, pulling out a stool for her to climb into to sit next to her. 

Lyra’s brows furrowed as she thought about her words. Finally, she sighed again as she picked at the hem of her pajama shirt, “I have a very important wish that I want to make, but I want to make sure that my fairy godmother knows just how important it is. Do you think I could writer her a letter like…like I do for Santa?” she finally asked, her large eyes blinking up at Isobel. 

Isobel wanted to just answer her quickly, but the levity of the situation weighed on her as she studied her niece. Her heart thudded as a soft smile pulled at her lips. She would never know how the hell Michael had managed to raise Lyra to be absolutely perfect and adorable, but there was nearly nothing Isobel could deny her. She tipped her head while she hummed, pretending to give the suggestion real thought.

“You know what, that’s really not an awful idea. I bet your fairy godmother would really appreciate having specific directions for the wish so she can’t mess it up,” she assured, her heart melting as she watched relief wash over Lyra’s face while her smile brightened and she sat up straighter. 

“Can you help me write to her auntie Izzy? I want to make sure she knows how important it is,” she stated very seriously as she jumped off her stool to run back towards her bedroom. 

Isobel blinked after her. It didn’t take long for Lyra to reappear, a bright, glittery notebook in her arms as well as a pink pen with a feathery decoration at the end. Isobel felt smug as she recognized it as the supplies she’d bought for Lyra when she started school after moving to Roswell.

“What’s your wish?” she asked curiously as she flipped the notebook open once Lyra had handed it to her. 

The little girl grunted as she climbed back up into the stool. She turned to smile at Isobel, her eyes shuttered in embarrassment as she looked down at her slipper clad feet, “I wish for someone to love daddy,” she muttered, her cheeks flaming. 

Isobel was shocked at the confession. Tears stung her eyes as she laid the pen down to turn and fully face Lyra. She reached over to gently cup her niece’s cheek, “Hey sweetie, you know that your daddy has a lot of people that love him, and he knows how much you love him too, right?” she asked, her voice soft as she studied Lyra. 

The girl sighed, but pushed her cheek into Isobel’s palm before she sat up straight, her little face determined as she jutted her chin out, “This is different auntie, I want daddy to get a happy ending like Cinderelley did. He’s too old for a fairy godmother so I’m going to let him borrow mine,” she stated, her eyes flashing with determination. 

Isobel swiped at a tear that managed to leak free of her eye. She nodded with Lyra, her grin warm as she picked up the pen again, “Your father doesn’t deserve you, you know that Lyra. He’s a lucky son-of-a-bitch,” she muttered. 

Lyra gasped, “Auntie! You’re not a-possed to say bad things,” she accused, her mouth open in an O of shock. 

Isobel grinned, “I’m sorry, okay, letter writing time, you let me know what you want it to say and I’ll write it out for you,” she stated, steering them back on track, however, she was pretty sure Lyra was going to rat her out to Michael tomorrow. 

Lyra refocused back on the letter. She excitedly moved onto her knees so she could watch over Isobel to ensure she was writing exactly what she wanted. She started talking and Isobel happily started writing, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she let Lyra dictate. 

_Dear Fairy Godmother,_


	2. Sleepless Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! I had a nice break after posting fics for an entire week straight so I figured this was just the fic to update!

Sweat soaked through the sheets Alex had laid out on his brother’s couch. He gasped for air while the grotesque images started to fade back into the dark corners of his mind. He knew he’d woken his brother up by the soft glow beneath his bedroom door. The first night Greg had made the mistake of shaking Alex awake while in the throes of a nightmare and suffered a black eye for it. Later Greg would reveal that he hadn’t stopped to think about what he was doing when he woke Alex despite knowing firsthand what it’s like to suffer from nightmares. Alex had apologized profusely after the incident, but Greg wouldn’t hear of it. Now, Greg had learned to let Alex come back to himself on his own, but he always hoovered from the safety of his room. Alex strained his ears and heard faint creaking behind the door, he could imagine Greg standing next to his bed debating coming to check on Alex or leave him be. Alex frowned, he hated that of the two weeks he’d been kipping on Greg’s couch he’d woken him more nights than not. Greg tried hard to hide it, but Alex saw the dark circles under his eyes in the mornings before he left for work. He hated it and he hated that he was the cause of it, but most of all he hated how Greg never got angry at him. That’s what Alex was used to, being blamed for everything and being hurt for it.

He watched the door for a few more seconds before his chest deflated. He stared up at the ceiling while Greg seemed to further debate coming out of his room. Alex closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m okay Greg, you can go back to bed,” he called, hoping his brother would listen. 

A few more creaks followed his shout, but Greg never emerged from behind the door. A couple more beats of silence until Greg responded, “Goodnight Alex,” like nothing had happened. 

A watery smile shook Alex’s lips as he flipped over onto his side, his face smushed up into the back of the sofa as he inhaled a few deep breathes to calm his pounding heart. His head was still a mess and he knew he wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon, but he didn’t want to wake Greg again or keep him up when he had to be at the school early in the morning. Alex flipped back over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. He picked out a water spot and traced the flared lines towards the corners of the room. He had to keep reminding himself he only had a couple more days until his house would be ready and he’d be out of Greg’s hair.

Eventually Alex was able to drift off to sleep again when the sun started to cast the horizon in a bath of red, orange, and purple. He pretended to sleep through Greg finally getting up and getting ready for the day. He wasn’t ready to face the kindness of his brother, he needed some time and space to deal with his own misgivings. He nestled more deeply into the comforter while he ticked off everything Greg did in the morning to get ready for work. It helped comfort him as he pictured Greg moving around his home. There was the click of his coffee maker, the opening and closing of his fridge for coffee creamer and his lunch. Cupboards opening and closing as Greg grabbed his thermos and coffee mug as well as a water bottle. If anything, their father had made sure he beat routine into his kids because Gregory rarely veered off of his morning routine. Alex started to list all the things Greg would do before he did them for something to occupy his mind until the front door opened and shut again. Waves of silence settled over him as he listened for Greg’s vehicle pulling away from the house until that too was gone. 

It took another hour for Alex to coax himself up for the day. He had a lot of things to do at the house and no will to do any of them. He went through his routine PT exercises after a hot shower and sent a silent ‘thank you’ to Greg for having the forethought to leave Alex a half pot of hot coffee. He snagged a mug along with the newspaper off the counter and made himself comfortable at the table. He spread out as much as he could while he lazily drug his eyes over boring headlines and ridiculous stories. He was about to toss the paper back onto the counter when the local wanted ads caught his attention. There was an ad in bold for a position in the Roswell USPS office for an overnight mail sorter. The pay was decent, but what truly caught Alex’s attention was that the position was for the overnight hours, hours that were mostly useless to him anyways. He quickly made a note with the number before he headed to his own place to oversee a couple more deliveries and unpack some more boxes. He already had an ungodly long list of things he’d need to purchase at some point, but for now he had just enough to survive for a few weeks. 

He swallowed down the last tepid dredges of his coffee and washed his dishes before he left. He scribbled a note for Greg in case he didn’t make it back before him and snagged his keys from a bowl on the counter next to the garage door. The mid-morning sun struggled to shine through a fine layer of clouds as he climbed into his SUV. Soon the sounds of Panic at the Disco’s newest album, ‘Pray for the Wicked’ rumbled from his speakers. He tapped his finger against the wheel as he picked his way through the desert roads towards the highway that led to Roswell. The ride was soothing, his mind was blessedly blank as he watched familiar landmarks blur past his window. All too soon the sign welcoming him to Roswell materialized out of the desert as he turned down familiar streets. He had about a half hour before his furniture would be dropped off so he’d use the time to hang a couple things around the house. 

As he dug through a few already open boxes he couldn’t stop his head going back to the ad he’d read earlier. He flopped back onto his ass, his cellphone in hand as he stared down at the black screen. Could he really handle something so tedious and boring? He had some reservations, but at the same time that sounded like exactly the pace he craved right now. The last ten years of his life had been spent in high stress situations until a roadside bomb put everything into perspective. He tapped the nail of his index finger against the screen before he steeled himself and thumbed his phone on. He dialed the number and held his phone against his ear as he waited for someone to pick up. 

“Roswell postal office, this is Edna, how can I assist you?” a very deep, but distinctly feminine voice echoed down the line. Alex guessed she had spent years as a pack a day smoker, and somehow the voice was calming to him. 

“Good morning Edna, I saw the ad in the paper this morning for the overnight mail sorter and was wondering if I could schedule a time to drop off an application and hopefully interview,” Alex sat up straighter as he adopted a professional air, hoping to impress the woman on the other end of the line. 

A grunt followed his inquiry, “You got any experience with postal work kid?” she hit him back, her tone bored and unaffected. Alex guessed that if he didn’t answer just right, she’d hang up on him and his opportunity would be shot. 

“No ma’am, but I did spend the last ten years of my life in the Air Force and I’m just really looking for something to keep busy,” he replied, hoping that choosing honesty over something flowery was just the thing she was looking for. 

Silence greeted him, in which he started to sweat until a rough chuckle seemed to vibrate against his ear, “Yeah? I got a couple mail carriers in those same shoes, they’re a good bunch. Listen, how about you stop by around two o’clock this afternoon and I’ll tell ya what the job is like before you really decide it’s something you want,” she uttered, her voice craggy and smokey sounding. 

Alex grinned, his spine hunching as he relaxed, “Sure, that sounds good. I’ll see you this afternoon. Thank you, Edna,” he replied softly. 

A burst of air came down the line, “Don’t thank me kid, you ain’t got the job yet,” she stated, though there seemed to be a teasing note hidden somewhere in the depths of her tone. 

Alex laughed, “Of course, well thank you for the opportunity anyways, have a good day,” he chuckled as he ended the call. He glanced back up at the wall he sat before, his lips pulled into a soft grin as he levered himself up onto his feet. He had a number of things to do before his meeting with Edna. Before he got too consumed in his work, he set an alarm for 1:30 and sent Greg a text before he slipped his phone into his back pocket. A horn from out front signaled the arrival of his furniture so he set to work directing the delivery men on where to set things so he could tend to them once they were gone. He was thankful for the busy work; it kept his mind off the job interview coming in only a few hours.

\---

Michael’s morning started off chaotically, which is something he should be used to, but he wasn’t ready to find Lyra obstinately rooted to the floor of her room in a full-length gown. Isobel was no help in the matter, only patting him on the shoulder as she winked at her niece and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“I didn’t even know you still had this dress,” he muttered as his brain flailed around for something more parent like to say. 

Lyra frowned at him, her tiny hands clenched against her hips, “You said I could dress myself; this is what I want to wear!” 

Michael recalled making the promise a while back, but at that time he had no idea Lyra still had the ungodly gown Isobel had bought her one Halloween when she was obsessed with being a princess. To make matters worse, a plastic tiara was tangled in a mess of her curls and hung haphazardly on one side of her head. Thankfully, Lyra didn’t have access to makeup just yet. Still, he wasn’t equipped to deal with this situation so early in the morning. He wanted to defer to Isobel, but the look she’d shot him as she left told him he was on his own. He sighed; his hand rubbed over his forehead as he reached for strength, he didn’t know he had. He blinked down at his daughter again, a soft smile on his face as he dropped down to crouch at her level.

“Why do you want to wear this to school today baby girl? It’s such a nice dress and I really would hate if it got torn or dirty today,” he reasoned gently. 

Lyra seemed to take his words into account as she pursed her lips and looked down at the glittering pink and purple monstrosity. She brushed one of her hands over the tulle on the skirt before she frowned, “I just need to look like a princess daddy,” she responded as if he should know that. 

Michael furrowed his brows, “You’re already my princess, why do you need to look like one today?” he asked, concerned about the forlorn tone she’d adopted. 

Lyra inhaled a deep breath, an indication that she was about to hit him with something she thinks he ought to know. He reached out to gently start working the tiara free of her curls as she filled him in. “I need to look like one today because fairy godmothers only help princesses. I need to make sure my fairy godmother thinks I’m one so she helps make my wish comes true,” she reasoned, her gaze dipped down to her feet. Her toes just barely poked out of the skirt to show mismatched shoes.

Michael frowned in concern as his hands dropped away from the tiara now barely hanging on to a few strands of her curls, “Sweetheart, I can guarantee that your fairy godmother, wherever she is out in the world, knows just how much of a princess you truly are. You remember Sleeping Beauty, right? She never looked like a princess until after her fair godmothers granted her wishes and the same thing with Cinderella, they didn’t look like princess until after. You should save this dress for that moment your wish comes true, celebrate the magic then,” he reasoned with her, his smile soft and bright as he cupped his daughter’s cheek and met her gaze. 

He watched as she seemed to consider his words. Her eyes flicked over his own face reading his sincerity while she reasoned his words against whatever things she had in her head. After a moment she seemed to come to a realization as she smiled at him, “You promise that my fairy godmother knows about me and will see my wish without the dress?” she asked him, but she’d already begun the motions of taking her dress off. 

Michael grinned, chalking up another parenting win as he pulled her close to kiss her head, “Of course baby, she knows you’re the best little girl in the world and your wish is going to come true real soon,” he promised and only just bit his tongue to keep himself from asking her what she was wishing for. 

Lyra stepped out of the gown, clad now in a pair of pink polka-dotted leggings. Michael stood back and watched her dig through a drawer filled with shirts until she pulled out a grey tee shirt with a unicorn on it. Other than she’d pulled it on backwards, he was proud of her independence. He snagged her backpack as he led her from the room, “Did you finish all your homework?” he asked as he steadied her while she climbed up onto a stool. 

“Yes daddy, auntie Izzy helped me last night,” she intoned with an eyeroll. 

Michael frowned at her as he pulled down a box of cereal and two bowls for them. He slid onto the stool next to her and helped her pour her own bowl of cereal, “Well excuse me for double checking,” he muttered. 

Lyra kicked her feet against the stool and grinned, “You’re excused,” she chimed. 

Isobel snorted from where she stood at the sink pouring a cup of coffee, “I mean, I never questioned it before, but she is certainly your kid,” she teased, a smirk evident over the rim of her mug. 

Michael rolled his eyes at her, “Ha ha Isobel, anyways, I have tonight off so I was thinking pizza and movies?” he asked, his attention turned back to Lyra, his brows raised as he waited for her response. 

Lyra hummed in thought as she munched on her cereal, “Yeah, okay, but I pick the movies,” she shot back with a milky grin. 

Michael chuckled as he reached over to ruffle her curls, “Deal, now finish up Lyre Bear, we have t-minus ten minutes until the bus leaves for school,” he announced as he rounded the counter to put his dirty dishes in the sink. 

Lyra hummed in agreement and focused on her cereal and a book from her bag. Once Michael had disappeared from the kitchen she jumped down from her stool and ran over to Isobel, her eyes large as she looked up at her, “Do you have it, do you have my letter? You’re going to mail it right?” she asked desperately.

Isobel grinned down at her niece and pulled their letter out of her bag, one of her brows perfectly arched, “Of course sweetheart. The post office is my first stop on the way to a new venue,” she assured her as she slipped the letter back into her bag. 

Lyra grinned, “Yay! Thank you, auntie Izzy!” she declared before she twirled away. 

Michael arched a brow at Isobel as he came back into the kitchen, his keys jangling as he looked between both girls, “What are we thanking auntie Izzy for?” he asked them skeptically. 

Lyra ran towards him and grabbed his hand to pull him towards the door, “Nothing daddy! We have to go now!” she urged as he pulled his arm. 

Michael didn’t budge as he rose his brows inquiringly at his sister, “Care to share Isobel?” he asked, ignoring Lyra who was now grunting as she tried to pull him. 

Isobel only smirked at him, “It is absolutely nothing you need to worry about, I promised to do something for my lovely little niece,” she replied as she set her mug in the sink and moved past them to head out on her way. 

Michael frowned as he watched her go and looked down at Lyra who now gripped his hand in both of hers, “Isobel didn’t sign you guys up to be spies or something did she?” he asked her as he finally walked towards the door with her still dragging him. 

Lyra huffed, “Of course not,” she groaned and dropped his hand as soon as they crossed the threshold. 

Michael hummed thoughtfully to himself, curious as to what his sister and little girl were up to, but so long as he didn’t end up maimed, he’d leave them to it for now. He opened the door to his truck for her and helped her climb up and belted her into her booster seat. Michael hoovered in the door for a moment as he watched her get settled, “You’d tell me if it was something important, right?” he asked her, his fingers drumming against the door handle.

Lyra turned towards him with a soft smile, “Of course daddy, stop worrying,” she assured him with a soft smile, her feet kicking against the seat. 

Michael grinned, “Alright, deal,” he agreed as he closed the door and moved around to his side. The drive to school was uneventful, Lyra singing at the top of her lungs while Michael just enjoyed the commute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments make my heart happy!

**Author's Note:**

> Please feed my muse with your lovely comments and kudos!!


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